Listening to Shadows
by Faeline
Summary: Done for a song meme on TF2007fun over at LJ. Chapter 5. Just three this time around. All Sam oriented.
1. Chapter 1

**N:** I snagged the song meme that's been floating about the TF comms on livejournal. Ratings between PG13 and light R. Slash and hints of slash. Maybe Bee/Sam if you tilt your head and squint.

**Meme:** Choose a subject and go - Writing: Put your entire music collection on shuffle, hit play, and write. Write for as long as each song plays and move on to a different writing when the song switches(even if it's mid-sentence). Go for ten songs(or five). If nothing comes, it still counts. If you're listening to a comedian, you can skip it.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Characters:** Megatron, Optimus  
**Song:** "Memory" - Michael Crawford

Optimus does dream. Perhaps not as humans do; he'll never know that for sure. But deep in his recharge, his processor fits together snippets of information gathered during the day's doings, a conversation held a million years ago stored deep in his archives, images that seem so far away they may have been viewed by someone else: the glimmer of light off a silver chassis, the sheen of optics burning deep red next to him in the shared recharge berth.

He dreams of touches in early years--before temptation, before madness--fingers whispering over his chassis, dipping with infinite care beneath his chest plates to run along the line of his spark chamber. He dreams thousands of years later, of fangs digging deep enough into the wires of his neck to draw energon, while electric shocks pierce his chest and his vocal chords spit static from the strength of his screams.

When he wakes, it's to phantom pains all over his body, components gone dry in his throat, lightning spearing his chest.

Human soldiers who'd lost limbs, he once heard Captain Lennox say, sometimes complained of pain from a limb that was no longer there.

He has not lost a limb, but the other half of his spark.

He doesn't think there's any human parallel for that.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Characters:** Ratchet, unknown  
**Song:** "Tell Me On a Sunday" - Michael Crawford

It wasn't that he came home--exhausted and still smelling the leaking energon of some of his more critical patients--to a silent apartment.

Or that the recharge chamber was empty of all evidence that another besides himself had ever rested there. Or that only his flannel hung in the washrack. Or that the datapads he'd become used to seeing scattered all over the desk in his office and the lounger in the front room had been removed.

It was the photoscreens that made something deep inside him ache. The photoscreens, hanging on the walls, undisturbed. Not even a hint of crookedness that suggested they'd been removed and considered and replaced. Nothing to suggest that he'd wanted something, some memento of their time together.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Characters:** Bee, Sam, anonymous girl  
**Song: **"Sunday Bloody Sunday" - U2

Decepticons had hit the area days before. Only the remnants of a few buildings remained.

Bee's scans had shown evidence of a living human in the area, not far from their patrol.

They'd found her in the burned out husk of an old church.

Sunlight filtering through the stained glass lit the remnants of pulpit and pews in brilliant hues of blood red and bright gold. And there she'd sat, six or seven years old, crouched in the center of what was left of the building, making patterns in the ashes.

Sam approached her slowly, bent down and admired the swirling patterns that might have meant something in a child's language.

"Angels did this," she said, her voice matter of fact behind the throat-frothing sound of unshed tears.

"Angels?" Sam asked, brow furrowed.

"They flew," she said. "They came from the sky." She looked up at him, green eyes shining, and rubbed her face, smudging ashes across one soft cheek. "…Mama said angels would come from the sky and bring the fire of God with them."

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Characters:** Bee, Sam  
**Song:** "End of the World" -- Skeeter Davis

Bee wasn't sure when he'd started coming to the beach.

A hundred...two hundred human years ago? Maybe more.

Time wasn't something he actively measured, anymore. There was no need. No need to save certain hours to his archives.

But he did keep track of the sunsets. Remembered the first one he and Sam had watched over the Lookout. Remembered the last one they had seen together over the Pacific; Sam perched on his thigh, leaning back against his body. He had clips of their conversation that night, the discussions of the days, the weeks, and even the years ahead. Sam had finished college, was going east to take a job in Washington, D.C. under Secretary Keller's successor. And Bee couldn't wait to see the water on that side of the continent.

And then it was all gone. Not in a flash of plasmafire, or the collapse of some building beneath the hands of the Decepticons.

But by the blade of a man who thought a corner store could provide the the money he needed to support his drug addiction.

A single moment, when Bee was busy scanning the area for signs of the steadily rising Decepticon activity, and Sam was taken by one of his own...

Bee raised his head, optics onlining to watch the last rays of the burning star dropping behind the deep blue of the sea. Gold at first, then violet, and finally, red as human blood.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN:** And, here's a few more snippets inspired by songs.

* * *

**Characters:** Megatron, Optimus; implications of slash  
**Song:** Beauty of the Beast -- Nightwish

There had always been a savage beauty about him, Optimus thought. Even when they were younglings, playing together on the outskirts of their home in the Northern sectors of Cybertron.

It existed in the breadth of his smile, that flash of razor sharp mandenta, in the narrowed optics that had always been able to predict and track Optimus' every move; in the way he ran, all controlled motion and fluid grace that Optimus himself had been hopeless at replicating; he was lucky he had managed to get around without tripping over his own pedes.

And even now, watching him jump and dive and transform in mid air, moving as though 'hell were after him' as the humans might say, Optimus couldn't help but admire the swiftness of the movement, the way the components all collapsed and folded together to create the form of the Cybertronian jet.

And when Optimus landed his grip on Megatron, he couldn't help but take the minutest moment to stroke his fingers over the smooth plating of the jet's wings. And he heard, beneath the sounds of battle, the slightest catch in Megatron's intakes just before they both hit the ground.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Character:** ?  
**Song:** The Cookie Factory -- Edward Scissorhands OST

He'd always been smaller than the other bots.

That was just the way he'd been sparked, the way his creator had been inspired: to craft a form that was smooth and lithe, made for fast movements, made for fitting into tight places that so many others couldn't breach.

Little did either of them know how handy his shape and form would one day be.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Characters:** Bee, Sam  
**Song:** The No Seatbelt Song -- Brand New

The first thing Sam noticed when he came to was that he couldn't see. A few moments of of startled panic and then a familiar voice called out to him.

"You're going to have to online your optics."

He heard steps on the floor, the voice moving closer and then launching into a series of instructions that he somehow managed to follow and then the world went from black to grey static to color.

He stared up at a steel ceiling and heavy industrial lights, tried to blink and couldn't.

"I'll teach you how to use the optic cleaning components later," said the voice again and Ratchet came into view above him.

"Think you can you sit up? --Don't try to speak," the last was spat out quickly as Sam went to open a mouth that felt both familiar and undeniably strange. "Just shake or nod; I think you can manage that."

He nodded, paused, and then tensed stomach muscles that he knew were no longer there. He felt the barest tension along the area of his stomach. Not enough to sit up.

"That's what I thought," said with no condemnation but perhaps a little bit of bone-deep weariness. Then an arm was sliding under him, pulling him into a sitting position, and Ratchet's hands were placing his own flat on the table, securing him, helping him find a position that kept him balanced upright, if a little slumped.

Sam didn't need to look down to see that his own hands would now resemble the CMO's.

Instead he looked--as much as he could with his new eyes...optics—-around the med lab, empty aside from himself and Ratchet and...Bumblebee, curled up in a far corner, optics blazing blue as a desert sky and watching him.

"I couldn't--" Bumblebee started, his vocal processor giving way to static before coming back, hitching and faint with the faintest mechanical wail, "I couldn't just leave you there, Sam."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: **Yet more drablets for consumption.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Within You -- David Bowie  
**Characters:** Megatron, Optimus

**_I move the stars for no one._**

"You know I can't let you do this."

"You would kill your bonded?"

"If it comes to it."

"You know what will happen, don't you?" His voice was a deep purr."Your processors will falter. Your spark will fail. And if you survive the systems crash, you will spend the rest of your days locked away behind heavy doors, while Medical interns fresh from the Academy examine you."

"I am well aware."

"Then, Optimus," he said, stepping closer and bringing his hands up to cup the Prime's face, claws scraping lightly over the paint. "What are you waiting for?"

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Wheel in the Sky -- Journey  
**Characters:** Ratchet

**_ I don't know where I'll be tomorrow_**

All across the battlefield smoke is rising from holes in the plating of Decepticons and Autobots alike.

And Ratchet, moving among the fallen, checking each and everyone alike to see who among them still bears a living spark, occasionally dodging fire from friend and enemy alike.

He uses a pede to turn one mech over, eyes widening for a moment at the construction of the face, before he relaxes, spotting the differences in framework, the Decepticon mark on the chest plate.

_He is safe_, Ratchet tries to assure himself. His bonded is far from this planet and this place, mired in his lab on the Ark.

And for the briefest of moments, Ratchet is incredibly thankful for the distance that separates them.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Gloomy Sunday -- Billie Holiday  
**Characters:** ?

**_The shadows I live with are numberless._**

Rain was something he had not experienced before.

He liked it.

He listened to the other Autobots complaining of the damp in their wirework, listened to the humans bemoaning the mire of the desert surrounding the new base.

It refreshed the planet. Seeped into the earth and made new life grow. Washed away dirt and debris.

And, standing just outside the complex at the rear of the base, looking at the second Lieutenant's name on the stone memorial--a memorial constructed months before he and his team arrived on the planet to the news of the Allspark's destruction--he can pretend, just for a moment, that the water on his face is tears.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** It's So Hard to Say Goodbye to Yesterday -- Boyz II Men  
**Characters:** Megatron, Optimus

**_And I'll take with me the memories  
To be my sunshine after the rain _**

The only thing he took aboard the Ark was a photoscreen with a single image inside it.

Taken less than a month after his coronation.

He and Megatron stood side by side and shoulder to shoulder.

Orion Pax--newly Optimus Prime--stared straight at the camera, optics bright with unspoken promise. And the Lord High Protector had one arm surreptitiously surrounding the young Prime's waist, so that only those who knew how to look could see the silver fingers tracing along the delicate plating of the Prime's hip.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Old Soldiers -- Hal Ketchum  
**Characters:** ?

**_I can't forget, you. I can't even try. _**

It was the same every evening.

Sitting in the dark corner of the energon bar in the newly constructed Iacon, thinking this night he might get a reprieve and then someone would spot him, recognize him.

And he'd find himself, once more, revisiting years past. Friends lost. Friends gained. The death of comrades. Of enemies. Of lovers.

And despite how he told himself he wouldn't do it anymore, he couldn't stop himself from returning to his little corner every night.

Because, despite the pain, he enjoyed revisiting those who were closest to his spark.

Even if they were now just a memory.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Heartache Every Moment -- HIM  
**Characters:** Wheeljack, Ratchet

**_It's heartache every moment with you._**

The repeated clang of metal meeting metal was loud in the otherwise quiet medbay.

"Ow!Ow!Ow!"

"Well, if you wouldn't insist on blowing yourself up every astrocycle, you wouldn't be in here. And I wouldn't be forced to put your sorry aft back together just for you to do it all over again!"

"That doesn't justify you hittin' me with a tire iron."

"I thought maybe, just _maybe_, if I could at least show you _some_ of the pain you've inflicted on me, you'd be learn to be more careful. But _no_..."

The scientist tilted his head, looking wary and thoughtful all at once.

"Do you have _any idea_ how much it hurts," the Medic's hand pressed to his own chest, just over his spark, "when I hear the explosions, feel the compound shake, see you dragged in here, offline, leaking energon and other fluids all over the place?"

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Past the Point of Rescue -- Hal Ketchum  
**Characters:** Megatron/Optimus

**_Last night I dreamed you were back again._**

It was their last night together.

He knew it immediately.

When Megatron came through the door, he stood to greet him and was nearly short circuited as silver hands reached immediately for the sensitive wiring at the base of his spinal column, fingers curving sharp as they stroked and tugged at plates and sensor nodes.

Optimus let himself be maneuvered into the recharge chambers, laid prostrate across the berth, while Megatron balanced above him, red optics searching his own blue ones for something.

He never knew if Megatron found what he was looking for.

The next moment his chest plates were manipulated open, Megatron's own following, and they were together in a surge of light brighter than anything he'd ever seen, and the pain searing through his core was sweeter than the most refined energon. Light exploded in his optics, silver, then green, the red bordering on black as his systems threatened a shut down.

When he came to, the room was empty.

His body sore, spark aching, cooling fans running, he took that last memory--a whisper of a mouth over his brow--for what it was.

Goodbye.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**Song:** Don't Dream It's Over -- Crowded House  
**Characters:** Sam, Bee

**_There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost  
But you'll never see the end of the road  
While you're traveling with me_**

They took the northern root, up through San Francisco and then headed west and south, rolling through miles and miles of desert sands that were stark as bone beneath the full moon's light.

Radio contact with the others had been lost days before.

The only thing they were sure of was the arrival of more Decepticons.

Though Bee knew, in his spark, that his comrades were still out there.

Some undercover, maybe.

Some hiding, yes.

But still out there.

Still existing.

And that's what kept him moving.

That and the young man currently asleep in his backseat, murmuring softly as dreams troubled him.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:** I got a little mushy with a couple of these. Must be time to fill my sap-quota. FFN borks my formatting every _bloody_ time, no matter how much I fiddle with the html. I've given up... I'll live with the horizontal line separators and a lack of white space. This is why I post in several places...at least it'll look how I want it to _somewhere_.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**In the end if I'm with you I'll take the chance.**_

**Song:** Right Here Waiting - Richard Marx  
**Characters/Pairing:** Ratchet/Wheeljack

They stood waiting at the given coordinates. Optimus watching the sky, Bumblebee speaking in low tones with Sam, Ironhide keeping an eye out for any trespassers, human or Decepticon.

And Ratchet... Ratchet played back the transmission, listening to the static and then the broken-up words in the all too familiar voice that he'd half expected not to hear again in his life cycle.

And when four spots of light separated themselves from the sky, his scanners focused on one and he transformed and found himself rushing from the others before they could overcome their startlement enough to shout his name.

He reached a burning copse of trees and saw the familiar figure standing, head cocked, examining the flora and fauna all around him.

Ratchet opened his mouth, found his throat components unwilling to cooperate, but realized there was no need when Wheeljack turned toward him, optics blazing bright, and, murmuring sentimental nonsense, cupped Ratchet's face in his hands.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**Don't say "We have come now to the end."**_

**Song:** Into the West - Annie Lennox  
**Characters/Pairing:** Bee/Sam

"It'll be alright. It'll be fine. Sam."

Sam nodded, or would have if he could feel his muscles in order to make the movement. He blinked, the rise and fall of his eyelids syrupy-slow, watched Bee's optics glowing dimly as he spoke to someone through his com link.

Sam knew he was bad off. He didn't feel any pain... Didn't feel much of anything, in fact.

Lights flashed across the sky, buildings crashed to the ground not far from where he and Bee were hidden.

"Ratchet will be here soon. Hold on. Please, Sam."

He would try. Yes. He would try...but he didn't think...

Darkness ate at the edge of his vision.

"Sam... _No_, Sam. Sam!"

**-0-**

Bee startled out of his recharge, shaking his head as if that would dislodge the memories running through his processor. He reached across the berth, found it empty and cool and he was up in a millisecond, moving through the early dawn hush of the base.

He found Sam just outside, sitting atop one of the many sandy plateaus that surrounded the compound, watching the sun rise. The morning light caught on the copper plating of Sam's new form, broke apart and scattered, shining bright in all directions.

Bee knelt behind him, wrapped his arms around the slim chassis.

"Bad dreams again, huh?"

Bee shook his head, raising a finger to caress Sam's face. "It's fine now."

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**There's a change in pace of fantasy and taste.**_

**Song:** Flesh for Fantasy - Fiction Company  
**Characters/Pairing:** Bee/Sam

It was their first time at the club. The first time Sam got to see Bee's holoform somewhere other than behind the wheel of the Camaro

Sam sat near the bar, watching Bee make his way along the dance floor, hips moving in a very distracting pattern. Men and women both followed him with their eyes; the bolder among them reached out, ran fingertips along whatever they could touch: an arm, the length of Bee's back beneath the slick, taught fabric of his shirt, a tendril of dark hair.

But Bee's eyes were on Sam the entire time and when his pale pink tongue darted out to wet lips that Sam had once thought looked far too soft to belong to his best friend, Sam shuddered and left his seat, moving through the crowd to the lithe figure as though being pulled by some invisible chord.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.**_

**Song:** Oh Holy Night - Josh Groban  
**Characters/Pairing:** Megatron/Optimus

Dark Season again, and the lights of Iacon burned brightly below the pavilion, reflecting in Optimus' optics eyes as he looked down on the city from the balcony.

He remembered the Dark Seasons when he was a youngling. His creators had kept him entertained with stories and games and numerous datapads detailing the history of Cybertron during those long spaces of time he wasn't allowed outside for fear of injury or loss.

When one of his creators could spare a few megacycles they would go for walks along the edge of town, watch the few meager lights striving to brighten the streets. And that pattern would continue until the end of the season, when, together, the three of them would stand at the highest point in town and watch the sunlight fall over the horizon, liquid gold burning bright on everything it touched.

"You're mired in thought." Megatron's arms around him, half-startling, and warm weight pressing into him from behind.

"Just remembering," Optimus said, shuttering his optics, "that light is nothing without darkness to compare it to."

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**Our spirits rise, they're not gonna get us.**_

**Song:** Not Gonna Get Us - TaTu  
**Characters/Pairing: **Bee, Sam, Mikaela

They stayed awake in shifts, one of them always sitting up front, driver or passenger's side seat--it didn't matter much these days whether someone saw a driverless vehicle--the other stretched out in Bee's backseat, trying to get as much sleep as they could.

Mikaela took the night shift. Night was the hardest time to get through; she could rarely sleep once the sun set. Staying awake and keeping Bee company was no hardship.

They stayed on the road by night, found hidden alcoves in which Bee could rest during the day.

Sometimes she watched Sam sleep--and how he could sleep so easy after all they'd been through, she would envy. Other times she and Bee would have conversations that lasted until dusk. And still others they were both silent, watching as the world rolled by them, eyeing the horizon and the stars in the sky and hoping for redemption.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

_**I just need some place where I can lay my head.**_

**Song:** The Weight - The Band  
**Characters/Pairing:** Bee, Sam

There was something to be said about hopping in your car and going on a spur of the moment road trip.

Nothing but the black ribbon of highway stretching out in endless waves before you, the sun setting in the distance, and the sea-salt wind coming in through the open windows.

There was even more to be said when your car was also your best friend, and a self-aware, intelligent alien to boot.

Sam settled into the passenger seat, the back reclining for him, and cast a smile to the young man who appeared to be driving. His shaggy black hair was streaked pale gold, his wide eyes were the color of the Pacific and when he returned Sam's smile, Sam was sure the light in the world brightened that much more.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**_What a wicked game to play, to make me feel this way._**

**Song:** Wicked Game - Chris Isaac  
**Characters/Pairing:** Ratchet, Maggie

It must have been the voice, Maggie decided. That gravelly, no-nonsense tone he took with all those around him, including the ones who were supposedly his superiors. The kind of voice that told you to jump and had you asking how high--unless you wanted a boot planted in your arse--or, in this case, she supposed, a drill planted in your head.

The kind of voice that had her wanting to deny orders...just to see what might happen afterward.

She'd always had a thing for dominant personalities in the opposite sex.

Alpha males, she guessed you could call them.

Though she's not quite certain when or where or exactly _how_ Ratchet ended up in that category.

* * *

**-0-0-0-0-0-0-**

* * *

**_You must leave now take what you need, you think will last.  
But whatever you wish to keep you better grab it fast._**

**Song:** It's All Over Now Baby Blue - Them  
**Characters:** Megatron/Optimus

It was the right thing, he knew--despite the twinging of his spark in its chamber--he could read the signs. More talk of political maneuverings. The distant optics. The renewed interest in the history of the Allspark. Later and later nights when he didn't know--precisely--where his bonded had disappeared to, but had the faintest hum in the back of his processor that suggested he was with his Communications Officer...and that Seeker.

But none of that stopped him from staring at his belongings--datapads, photoscreens, the occasional odd memento from one of the civilians he'd met over his many cycles as Prime--and wondering where, exactly, he would go...

And that's how Megatron found him, standing still, staring without seeing, in the middle of their shared apartment.

Their gazes met, locked, fire and ice battling, neither willing to relent.

Megatron said nothing, simply closed the door behind him and slid the locks into place, before taking a stance Optimus new well. The one that said "The only way you'll get from point A to point B is through me...and I've no qualms about offlining you, throwing you over my shoulder and binding you to the recharge berth to get you to listen to reason."

The studied one another for the space of a few sparkbeats and then Optimus looked away and sank slowly onto the cushions of the two seated lounger. The weight of Megatron's gaze lifted as he settled behind Optimus, body pressing close, hands coming to rest loosely around the Prime's wrists.

And Optimus shuttered his optics, tried to ignore the relief pulsing in his spark at the nearness of its mate, and wondered, if maybe tomorrow, he'd have the courage to walk out that door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** Just three this time around. My day job is eating my brain. Between brainstorming for projects, parsing info, writing content for lessons, writing scripts and researching, I find my creative side cowering in a corner, rocking back and forth and chanting nursery rhymes by the time I get home in the evening. And, I just saw _The Dark Knight_, so, of course, my brain is filled with the presence of the Joker (and he is _quite_ the distraction, but at the same time, good inspiration for getting back to one of my original short stories). At any rate, I hope to have more little music shorts...and maybe something else during the next weeks/months.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Etiquette Lesson - Edward Scissorhands OST**

It wasn't the dream that sent him scuttling across his bed in a panic, falling to the floor in a bundle of pillows and sheets. Rather, it was waking to bright eyes peering out of a face that was both strange and familiar. A face that, when he opened his own eyes snap-quick--rushing up from his bad dreams--was hovering entirely too close. Close enough that he could see the ring of black surrounding the iris, the lines in the lips. Perfect human imitation. And when he was sitting on the floor, pain flaring in his hip, staring at the mouth that was asking him if he were "O. K." he thought again that he would have to have a little talk with Bumblebee about lending his holoform to night time excursions that involved Sam's bedroom.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Kissing a Wolf - Zara's Remix (Blood and Chocolate) Johnny Klimex and Reinhold Heil **

Whip crack of branches behind him and the ground shaking beneath the weight of his pursuer. His eyes stung from the young tree limbs that slashed him across the face. Blood in his mouth, wet, and yolky raw. And if he could only keep going, push harder, run faster, breathe easier, he just might make it to the light that shone... But what good was the light in the end, Sam thought as he fell to the shuddering earth, something cracking--white-hot flash of pain--in his foot. It didn't keep the monsters away.

* * *

**-o-o-o-o-o-o-**

* * *

**Out of City (Hot Bloody Chocolate Remix)**

The press of a hundred bodies all around him made him flush, but it was the one body pressed up against his that sent his pulse racing, blood thrumming through his veins so fast that he was certain he could see the rush of it just beneath the skin. Certainly Bee could feel it, as the Autobot's holoform ran cool fingers up the backs of Sam's arms, caught Sam against his body when the boy would have moved away. And Sam let him. Let him move them both to the beat of the music, let himself enjoy the feel of Bee's body sliding behind him, against him, around him. Let himself taste the skin of Bee's brow, the artificially produced salt that settled into the grooves of Bee's lips, the warmth of that all too human seeming tongue, the feather brush of shaggy dark hair against his face. And he tried not to think, that come morning, he was going to feel mighty strange about this evening's escapades...


End file.
